Stopping Madness
by Ailat
Summary: I'm not entirely sure what happened next,because all I can remember was my sisters voice pounding inside my skull,cursing me as she hurried to the bathroom.By the time she reached it,I had already passed out.-The story of Indigo as she scumbles her savvy.


**A/N: ****Well hello there, valued readers!**

**Hopefully, someone is actually reading this…**

**Anyways, I had been looking for something to read and so I reread Savvy and Scumble.**

**And here we are.**

**Oh, and to hopefully avoid confusion, most of this chapter is in the past, but the rest of the story will be in the present, unless otherwise noted.**

**So…**

**Is it just me, or is it a bit awkward here.**

**Maybe because I know that the people reading this are probably like "Dude, update your other stories! Don't start a new one!" **

**Or maybe I'm just talking too much.**

**Let's just start.**

My sister had her savvy scumbled practically the day she got it.

She'd always had a knack for scrambling up seemingly inaccessible shelves and rocks even before her 13th birthday. Magnolia's savvy simply intensified this gift. She could now find ledges and bars, invisible to every else, that she trapezed about with a dancer's grace.

With me being two years her senior and having a totally _un_-scumbled savvy, this didn't exactly make me her biggest fan.

My savvy, albeit unnoticeable to normal people, still had full reign. I could go to school, but being around my mother's side of the family was a nightmare. A very real nightmare.

We hadn't known what my savvy was for a while. Nothing spectacular happened on my 13th birthday. I didn't start a hurricane, like my uncle Fish, or burst into flames, like my cousin Ember, or run off on a pink bible bus, like my mom.

It was just like the last twelve birthdays I'd had, only more disappointing.

A few days later, though, it took a turn for the worse.

I'd been touching up a drawing I'd had going for a while. I'd fancied myself an artist since I was 4 and I actually wasn't half bad. Tons of drawings and paintings covered my half of the room I shared with Maggie.

Anyways, I was going to town when, lo and behold, the pen decided to explode.

(And it wasn't my fault.)

Ink was everywhere. My drawing was ruined and sticky black dots spotted my hands. For normal people, those would be the biggest casualties. For me, I was about to give my mom a trip through Indigo land.

My mom's savvy is to hear thoughts, but only when a person has ink on them. Tattoos, notes, doodles, and ink smudges all come to life to tell Mississippi B. Meeks everything going through the owners head.

I left the traitorous pen and drawing on the desk and ran to the bathroom, trying to think one thought and one thought only: The Star-Spangled Banner. Soon, my smudges were gone. No harm done, right?

Wrong. My unsuspecting sister walked into our room and put her hand on that inky piece of paper. Mom had come to investigate why she heard our national anthem in the bathroom and I saw her get that savvy look on her face.

But then, it was gone.

I'm not entirely sure what happened next, because all I can remember was my sisters voice pounding inside my skull, cursing me as she hurried to the bathroom.

By the time she reached it, I had already passed out.

**(squiggle)**

At first, Mom had no clue what had happened. We took an emergency trip up north to where Aunt Gypsy and her husband lived. Gypsy's savvy self could always tell you anything about yourself. It was almost as if those spectacled eyes could take your past and soul and read every inch of them.

When we got there, Aunt Gypsy was waiting on the porch in the nice, spring air with her 6 month old baby in the crook of her arm. She squinted at me.

And suddenly, I knew everything.

Her name was Gypsy Beaumont Anderson. She was 26 years old. Her baby, Rex Anderson, had trouble breathing when he was born. Only thanks to her cousin Fedora's savvy had he lived. She liked taking him outside to breathe the fresh air. Two hours ago, her older brother Fish had called about his daughters savvy becoming uncontrollable. She hated the smell of Sharpie pens. She was more of a cat person, but for her husband, she'd gotten a dog. When she was 4, she broke her arm falling out of tree. Now, though she would never admit it, she was afraid of heights.

These and more flooded my brain, telling me Gypsy's whole life story.

Gypsy had looked at my mother in confusion.

"I don't know anything," she said, dejectedly. I turned to my mother to see what she thought and another barrage of information hit me, this time about Mississippi Meeks.

I clutched my head. All this knowledge crammed into my head hurt, giving me a headache. Gypsy had given me one look and had understood.

"She took my savvy," she'd said. Mom had frowned.

"What?" she gasped.

Without answering, Gypsy surged forward. She handed Rex to my mom and took my shoulders in her hands. She stared into my eyes.

"What's my favorite color?" she asked.

"Purple."

"My favorite pie?"

"Cherry."

"My husband's middle name?"

"John."

"What was Mib's third grade teacher, Mr. Douse, first name?"

"Her third grade teacher was Ms. Case."

Aunt Gypsy turned back to my mom, satisfied.

"Her savvy is taking other people's savvies. That's amazing!" She'd smiled. "I an't get a read on anyone. That's why you didn't hear Maggie's mind that day. She'd taken your savvy!"

Aunt Gypsy had acted like this was a good thing.

Heck, so did I. I didn't get just one savvy, I got every savvy!

Until we went to Uncle Tucker's wedding 3 months later at Uncle Rockets house in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, Colorado.

Everyone was there. Meeks, Beaumont's, Kales, O' Connells and more gathered for the joining of Tucker Beaumont and Angelina Diggans. And entering that savvy-filled room proved disastrous for me.

All at once, I started crackling, rain and wind appeared on a cloudless day, bolts and screws flew loose and grass outside grew a foot. I could hear some minds. I could see everyone's pasts. Plates and cups fell as I took every last savvy to myself.

And that's when I realized.

Not only did I have to learn to scumble my own savvy, I had to learn to scumble everyone else's too!

I had run out of the room crying before I could kill anyone. I ran into the meadow just outside of the house and curled up in the cool, tall grass.

Soon, my mother came looking for me. But I just curled up tighter and didn't make a sound. She looked over me and soon left.

I needed a moment to myself.

But when I heard someone say, "Indigo," I came out of hiding.

Only one person in my extensive family called me Indigo, instead of my nickname, Digs.

Uncle Rocket.

I straightened up in the dark, illuminated only by the moon and stars. Rocket stood by the edge of the meadow.

"What?" I asked miserably. He saw me and started to come over.

But my savvy had to ruin things again, and soon, my entire body was covered in brilliant blue sparks.

I screamed and the sparks flew higher. Rocket ran up, but then thought the better of it and stepped back again. He shouted "Calm down! They're controlled by your mood. If you're calm, they'll go away!"

I tried to calm myself. Whenever my mom wanted to calm herself, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. I tried that and the sparks died down some. I kept breathing slowly, thinking of night and the cool breeze.

Soon, I felt Uncle Rocket's arms on my shoulders. He wrapped me in a hug and I made sure I kept breathing to stay calm. I knew from stories what happened when those sparks were released on humans.

I opened my eyes and rocket pulled me down. We sat in the grass in silence for a while, me looking away in shame. I could have killed him.

Finally, Rocket said, "Well, it would have been a shame if this meadow caught fire. Glad it didn't."

I looked at him strangely. "You're worried about the meadow?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "I always liked this meadow. Thought it was beautiful, 'specially in the spring, when the flowers are just blooming." He sighed as he looked at my disbelieving face. "Look, Indigo. When you're got a powerful savvy, you have to learn to think positive. Always believe that the worst casualty would be a material item. Then, you'll never be able to hurt anyone."

"But what if I do anyways‽" I exclaimed. Rocket's hair stood on end and my shirt stuck to me in the electricity in the air. I blushed and quickly tried breathing again. But I was rather agitated now.

"Calm down, Indigo. The thing is…" He ran his fingers through his dark shock of black hair, "I almost killed my dad once. By accident."

I stared at him, shocked. "How can you say that I can't hurt anyone by sheer hopeful thinking, then?"

He looked at me gravely. "I can because I realized then that I thought I had no control over my savvy. In all honestly, we're all born with a bit of control over our savvies. Just stay calm and think positive and the worst will be avoided. You need to work on the calm part, I can tell. At least you're not Magnolia. We'd all be dead in seconds with that girl." He chuckled.

"The point is, I know you can handle this. You wouldn't have been given a strong savvy unless you could handle it. It may take you years and it may take you a month, but I have faith that you'll be able to scumble your savvy without permanently hurting someone. I don't think you could even if you tried."

"Tried what?"I asked.

"Tried hurting someone. You talk tough all the time, but I don't think you're the type to start swinging fist, or in this case, shooting sparks. Just keep thinking, 'I can't hurt anyone' and you won't."

With that, he'd left me to my thoughts.

I'd thought a lot about what he said. Not just then, but for two years.

Two years, and I still hadn't scumbled my savvy.

I tried to keep his advice in mind as I watched my sister scale thin air, only to fall as my savvy lashed out at her in a way I couldn't.

**A/N****: You have no clue how hard that was for me to crank out.**

**I'll be sure to update this one. I might even finish it!**

**R&R**


End file.
